Of Mercy's voice, of Mercy's plea,

  And tells me Mercy will be found

    Amongst the twelve to speak for me,

  Rapt Fancy hears the Cherub plead: ...

    Propitious is the Culprit's fate,

  If one, by tender mercy sway'd,

    Amongst the Jurors takes his seat.

  One who will meek-ey'd Mercy's laws

    Oppose to Rigour's doubtful rule ...

  Nor quit the hapless Culprit's cause,

    Though sterner Judgements deem him fool.

  Blessings that wait his heart, his tongue,

    Cannot elate his tranquil breast:

  He courts no blessing from the throng;

    He is, and ever will be, blest.

  He shall win the Jury's ear,

    Pity glist'ning in his eye;

  Let us not be too severe....

    If we let the Culprit die,

  Fruitlessly we may bewail

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